


rise, higher still, endless thrill

by aimelle



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 12:06:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5665489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimelle/pseuds/aimelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then they had won, and what remained of the Republic soldiers scattered away in a disorderly fashion. Ren stood there, surrounded by maimed corpses and splattered blood, absurdly red against the snow. Hux wanted to peel off his clothes and wash all the blood and dirt off his body, slowly, reverently, until it was impossible to tell those long limbs had ever known the filthy mess of battle. He wanted to beat him to a pulp and drag him into the mud and see if he’d still look like an avenging angel then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated M for safety, or maybe accurately, I have to confess I'm not super versed in what exactly those ratings are supposed to entail, eh.

Hux was there, the day Kylo Ren joined them. Snoke had come back from an unexpected trip, in the middle of the night, an arm wrapped tight around a young boy’s shoulders. Hux heard the whispers : the boy had been in a Resistance training camp, he had defected, he had killed them all, he was someone’s son, he was a prophet, he was someone reincarnated, he was half mad, he was a spy, he was cursed. Hux didn’t care. What he saw, and couldn’t understand that their leader wouldn’t, was that the boy was angry and in shock, which was no sound base for any loyalty, and that he would be more trouble than he was worth at best, but more probably their certain downfall.

Later on he found out some truths. The boy had a hero of the First Independence War, Vader, for a grandfather, one who’d tried to do what they were fighting for now : set up an actual strong government, not one that would sign repulsive trade agreements putting them right back under the ex-colonizer’s power. But his parents had fought for the opposite faction, the one that had won, before the Republic they’d helped to build disappointed them as well. They were alive. He had two parents, alive, on the other side of this war. It was only a matter of time before he betrayed the First Order too.

Hux also understood that Snoke had wanted that boy to come to him for a very long time, that he’d done all he could to ensure that he would. Somehow (no one actually _knew_ how) he’d retrieved Vader’s remains and had some kind of reliquary carved to hold them, which they now carried around wherever they went, solely for the boy’s sake — though officially, it was because Vader was an inspiration for them all. But none of them needed to ask a pile of bones for guidance save for Kylo Ren.

They said it wasn’t his real name, that he’d chosen it for himself when Snoke had started to get in his head, or when he’d betrayed the Resistance, or that it had been given to him in a vision.

They said Snoke needed him, that they all needed him, because he was chosen, because God spoke to him in his dreams, because he could perform miracles, because he was a miracle. They said that Snoke himself had some of that strange power, but not as much, but the boy was young and unstable and so he needed Snoke for guidance, and Snoke needed the boy as a symbol. Hux didn’t care much for mysticism. Maybe it would help the troops’ morale to feel like they had divine forces on their side, but holy visions didn’t win battles. Men did.

 

Steadily Hux worked his way up the command chain, as the First Order won decisive fights and the Republic started to quiver in fear. More often than not, he found Kylo Ren at his side. He told himself that rivalry was childish and inefficient, and he was no longer a child. But he couldn’t pretend to enjoy seeing Snoke placing as much of his trust in Ren as he did in him, nor could he stop himself from finding it unfair ; Ren was a disaster waiting to happen, prime treason material, impervious to reason, parading his emotional turmoil for all to see. Hux was an excellent soldier, just as good a General, a skilled tactician and amazingly quick to act in perilous situations. It was hard not to think himself more deserving of just about everything than Kylo Ren was.

But he was raw power, Snoke told him. He was essential. He was blessed. So Hux endured.

 

And one day, he saw him fight.

His battle plan had been perfect. The Republic fighters had walked straight into every trap, and Hux’s soldiers had taken advantage of every single flaw in their formations. Soon the enemy would have no choice but to retreat to save as many men as possible, and from his observing station the spectacle was admirable. Only one figure stood out, black robes swirling, slashing and hacking at everything he found in his path, gracefully spilling gallons of blood. Hux had learned swordfight, a long time ago. No one fought with a sword anymore, because it was unpractical, inefficient, left you too vulnerable, too exposed. What Ren was doing was impossible. And yet.

Then they had won, and what remained of the Republic soldiers scattered away in a disorderly fashion. Ren stood there, surrounded by maimed corpses and splattered blood, absurdly red against the snow. Hux wanted to peel off his clothes and wash all the blood and dirt off his body, slowly, reverently, until it was impossible to tell those long limbs had ever known the filthy mess of battle. He wanted to beat him to a pulp and drag him into the mud and see if he’d still look like an avenging angel _then_.

 _Fuck_.

 

“You’ve never killed a man,” Ren said. Hux’s jaw clenched, and he looked around to make sure that no one could have heard. It was true, but it was a truth he’d worked very hard to burry, and would not stand to see unveiled. “Not really. You send people off to kill and die for you, but you’ve never even shot anyone. You’ve never _felt_ someone die, and known that _you_ did this, you took a life, you dared. You train and you think and you scheme and you plan but you don’t understand, you don’t know death, and you don’t know life. It must make things easier.”

“If you’re done insulting me, I’d like to get back to my _scheming_ ,” Hux said.

 

Sometimes, he saw Ren break. He’d thought his fits of rage unpredictable at first, but then he’d realized that what Ren couldn’t stand was his own weakness. No one enjoyed making mistakes, but Ren could only barely live with them. Hux had always known, since the very beginning, that he was conflicted, that he was ridden with doubt, constantly looking for reassurance that the path he was on was the right one, ecstatic and devastated all at once every time he took a step further. He also knew that one of his duties was to make sure that this knowledge would not spread, although Snoke had never told him in quite so many words. He didn’t know what to do with the anguished howls that would echo in his head for hours afterwards.

Sometimes, he saw Ren pray. It made him feel ever so slightly ashamed, to pry on him at such a private time. But if he had to feel shame, there were plenty of better sins to choose from. How he stood in the doorway, eager eyes on Ren’s bare back as he kneeled. How he asked Ren to train with him every now and then with no other purpose than to _feel_ his body as close as he could.

He wondered how it would feel to fuck the divine.

Some men murmured that Ren could read minds. Hux wasn’t sure whether he feared or hoped that was true.

 

It would be a decisive battle, Ren had said. A hard one. He couldn’t foresee the outcome. If they came out victorious though, it could be the end of the Resistance. _Take him with you_ , Snoke had ordered. Hux had tried to argue. Ren couldn’t follow orders, was almost as much of a danger to their own men as to the enemy’s, was not known for doing well under pressure, in an important battle was much more of a liability than an asset. _His father will be there_ , Snoke had said, like it made any kind of sense. Like it wasn’t yet another reason he shouldn’t be there. But it was an order.

At first, it had looked like they would win. And then they started losing. It didn’t make sense. Hux couldn’t explain it. Or rather, there was only one explanation he could think of : a betrayal. He fucking _hated_ betrayal. He’d have to investigate, but first he needed to coordinate an efficient retreat. He could do it. His men were only starting to be outnumbered. It would be a setback, but they would recover soon.

“We’ve lost Kylo Ren,” Captain Phasma told him in a whisper. _Fuck_.

“Lost _how_?”

“We don’t know where he is,” she amended. She seemed angry with herself. It made sense. She was in charge of keeping an eye on Ren whenever he fought. But today had been a mess. And maybe Ren had wanted to escape her vigilance. Maybe now was the time Hux would be proved right about his wavering loyalty. It wouldn’t bring him much joy.

“We have to find him. We can’t have him captured. And if he got himself killed, I have to know. I can’t go back to Snoke to tell him we have misplaced his most valuable artefact. Come with me. Take five men you trust.”

 

They found him, bleeding out on the ground, barely conscious. Someone had slashed at his face, but it looked like the eyes were intact. They carried him back to camp, and then they waited. _He’ll make it_ , someone said. Hux had had a quick look at the wounds, and frankly didn’t understand how he hadn’t died _then_ , so he wasn’t properly surprised. And as Ren slept the rumours grew.

He’d killed his father, the loudest voices said. Snoke himself had come to see him (but he hadn’t been conscious) and Hux suspected it might have been to ask about that. Or to find out who managed to almost kill him, perhaps. No one seemed to know, which meant that everyone had a theory. They counted their dead. It could have been much worse. They thought about their next move. But somehow it seemed that nothing could quite be decided on before Kylo Ren woke up and walked.

 

It took two days, until Hux was roused from his sleep in the middle of the night by a loud noise coming from the adjacent room, and there found that Ren had tried to take a few steps, and fallen down, taking some furniture with him. So Hux had helped him back to the bed, checked that he hadn’t completely ripped his stitches open, and sat down next to him. Ren was angry.

“Do you want to tell me what happened ?” Hux asked.

“How long —”

“Roughly two days.”

Ren looked at his hands, and ran them over himself, pushing on the bandaged parts until he found where it really hurt. Hux looked away, but it didn’t supress the ache — this ever growing need to touch, to feel, to own, to take, to give — to lay different bruises on that skin, to undo him completely, and let himself come undone. Then Kylo Ren talked.

He _had_ killed his father. He tried to suppress it, but his voice trembled as he said so. Somehow, Snoke seemed to think this a good thing, a show of loyalty, something Ren couldn’t come back from. It seemed to Hux that it would be the final straw, and that before long he would be entirely lost to them. Perhaps he lacked faith. Then someone had shot him. That was the abdomen wound. Then someone else shot him in the leg. And then he encountered a girl who gave him a scar.

“She was like me,” he said. “She was — it doesn’t make _sense_ — but I felt it, it was the same fire —”

“Have you told Snoke this ?”

“No, I haven’t seen him yet.”

“Then, perhaps don’t,” Hux suggested. He couldn’t quite say _why_ this seemed like good advice, but Ren appeared to agree. He was drifting back into sleep. He ought to be dead. The word “miracle” kept floating in the corners of Hux’s mind, and he was inclined to stop fighting it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I would never manage to write this, but I did ! So congratulations, me. I hope it's not disappointing, anyway it's a story I enjoyed writing (while listening to a lot of Jeff Buckley), and I hope you'll enjoy it too.

“The Resistance are trying to make us unpopular with the population,” Captain Phasma announced. “They say we slaughter innocent women and children when they refuse to pledge allegiance, amongst other things.”

“Well,” Hux said, “there is not such thing as an innocent loyalist. And I like my enemies better when they’re _dead_.”

He was tired. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept for more than an hour at once, and this meeting was dragging on and on, even Snoke was unfocused. Perhaps they should be more lenient when it came to discipline, someone suggested, to improve their public image. _Maybe we should give the traitor who cost our men’s lives a medal_ , Hux retorted. Patience escaped him. They’d lost a battle, but there was still a war to wage. What did it matter whether or not the people liked them, as long as they were _right_ — this was something they’d have ample time to worry about and work on _after_ they’d seized power.

He had been confident that the First Order would quickly overcome their defeat, but now it seemed like he’d been terribly wrong. Everyone had become overly cautious, and every meeting was heavy with uncertainty. It was as if they’d been so used to victory that they’d forgotten to envision the mere eventuality of a setback. _We have to strike again, soon, and not in a minor way. We need a fight we’re sure to win, but something highly symbolic, something impressive._ But all he’d heard were objections : it wouldn’t be wise to attack the holiest city in the country, they said, they needed to rest and revise their strategy, they said, maybe it would be better to let the Resistance come to them, they said.

Once the Resistance fell, there’d be nothing standing in their way. The Republic had always been feeble, and three years of open conflict had drained it so much more than they had weighed on their own forces. Even conquering the capital wouldn’t be that much of a challenge. But they needed to do _something_. The idleness was driving him crazy — or close, since hours earlier he’d found himself seriously considering mutiny. Snoke was out of it since Kylo Ren’s misadventure, it wasn’t something he’d have any trouble making everyone see. But it was delicate to demand loyalty when treason brought one to power, he thought.

And perhaps Snoke would come to his senses once Kylo Ren got better.

He’d been feverish and delirious for almost a week now, and someone sat next to him day and night, writing down every word that came out of his mouth, in the hope that some of it would make sense. Bright and hazy eyes, all muscles tensed, damp and tousled hair, hoarse voice, flushed cheeks, clenched fists, uneven breathing, something between pain and exaltation on his face — Hux stayed away from that room as much as he could.

 

“There is a Resistance base just outside of Naantan. It can be reached in less than two days. You’ll destroy it, and seize the city. It will give us an outpost along one of the main routes they use for supplies and weapons. You leave in three days.”

It was better than doing nothing, although it wasn’t quite the impressive show of power he still deemed necessary — finally being able to send men to do something useful did ease his restlessness. Had he been allowed a greater objective, he could have gone himself. However, it might not have been wise to leave Snoke’s side. Their leader spent most of his days studying the transcripts of Kylo Ren’s fever induced soothsaying, not caring to share with anyone what he gathered from all this pondering, while Ren himself was only seen out of his quarters on rare occasions. This left Hux in charge of virtually everything, without the legitimacy to take any initiative. It was getting unconformable.

 

The door was open, so he stood there for a few minutes, waiting for Ren to notice and acknowledge him.

“Snoke sent for you,” Hux said.

“Shouldn’t you have said so earlier ?”

“It’s not that urgent.”

And Ren looked at him, and that was asking, _why are you here now, then_ , daring him somehow, and that was new, unlike the ever-present and ever-stronger pull that presently made him close the door and take three steps forward, and that strange, risky, heavy expectancy was still there as Ren stood up slowly, and there was this loud noise in his ears and that was his blood rushing, as he reached out for Ren’s face, and he only remembered to breathe when Ren caught his wrist, but not firmly, and then time was back in motion and he kissed him, one hand on his cheek and the other on his neck, and everything that had craved and waited and wanted and yearned and hungered inside of him for months was catching fire as he bit and licked and tasted full lips that parted for him and the thrill of it was so much more than he’d dared to imagine, and he only wanted everything else.

But Ren pushed him away, ever so slightly, and his lips were red and his eyes bewildered, and more and more colour was rising to his cheeks as he scrutinized Hux’s face, and Hux knew that was because he was blatantly radiating desire, and he knew that because it was burning through his skin.

“If you tell me you’ve taken a vow not to partake in the pleasures of the flesh or some shit, I’m going to lose it,” Hux said.

“It’s — it’s nothing but lowly distractions that ground us to earth while we should —”

So Hux kissed him again and pushed him against the wall and brushed his lips along his jaw and down to his neck, and he asked, _So no one’s ever kissed you before ?_ and _So no one’s ever touched you before ?_ and _Have you touched yourself ?_ and _You’ve been told you’re beautiful before, haven’t you ?_ and Ren said, _Yes, but no one has ever quite meant it that way, I think_ , and Hux said, _I’ll make you rise above earth, you’ll see_ , and he heard Ren’s breath catch and so he allowed himself to reach for his cock and stroke it through the heavy fabric, which drew a moan out of Kylo Ren, something indecent, obscene, and Hux found himself struggling to keep a clear head.

“I want to see and touch all of you, I want to know I’ve had my hands and lips and tongue on every inch of your skin, I want to do it so often I’ll know your body by heart, I want to learn how my hands fit best here — on your hips, or here — or there — and I want to make you find out what you like, and then I want you to ask for it.”

Ren’s right hand tightened on his waist.

“And I’ll do it.”

Then Hux fell to his knees and it was reverently that he took Ren’s cock in his mouth, with deference that he guided one of his hands towards his head — and he shuddered when Ren ran a hand through his hair and caressed his forehead — and Hux felt grateful when he came, and swallowed, looking at him, making sure he saw, before standing up. It was a sight he’d fantasized about : Kylo Ren, ashamed but elated still, strands of hair falling in his eyes, his whole body relaxed for once, breathing heavily, not daring to look him in the face, furtively glancing at his crotch instead.

He wanted more, he wanted better, he wanted worse. He wanted to see him covered in sweat and come, defiled, unclean, nothing more than a mess of blood and flesh and bones, perhaps a little less than a man there, even. He wanted to undress him slowly and run a hand along his spine and follow a million invisible trails all over his back, to plant chaste kisses on every single vertebra, to wrap his arms around him and revel in that contentment. He wanted to worship the idol before tearing it down.

Hux laid a hand on the side of Ren’s face, and traced the scar with his thumb.

“I lied,” he said. “It was kind of urgent. You should tidy up and hurry along.”

As soon as he got out of the room, he heard the unmistakable sound of furniture being knocked down, accompanied by enraged screams. Hux would deal with this later, and endure in the meanwhile ; enduring and dealing with things were, after all, most of what he did.

 

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Kylo Ren told Hux as he entered his room.

“And yet you’re here.”

“I can’t sleep anyway, I’m plagued with — dreams — nightmares — it’s getting worse, _everything_ is getting worse —”

“Let me distract you, then.”

And so Ren took his outstretched hand and let Hux pull him in close, and kiss him, and he held Hux’s face in both his hands and whispered, _I’ve had dreams about this, too_ , and Hux knew then that he was lost. He took his time to let his hands feel and feel and feel and hopefully remember, the softness of black curls, the shape of some bones, his pulse in his neck, the warmth of his breath.

He asked Ren to take off his clothes, and he did, and he was beautiful. Hux felt humbled. Hux felt eager.

“What do you want me to do ?” Ren asked.

Hux would never have thought he’d struggle with the answer to that question. He wanted so much. But what did he want the most, if he could only have one thing — more time, a thousand more occasions, a million more nights, a dozen more miracles and a place in the sun always — since time, they both knew, was not a luxury they had anymore — since everything was urgent now, which was why they had to stretch that night as much as they could —

“Lie down on your stomach,” Hux said.

Then tenderly he brushed the hair off Ren’s neck, and covered it in kisses, and then did the same with his shoulders, while his hands wandered on his back and he tried to memorize the patterns the moles formed all over it, and then he offered Ren his fingers to lick, and found that it was hard to make himself believe that all was this was real — really happening — happening now. He’d wanted it, he’d ached with wanting it, and it had barely been likely to happen then, and now —

“Please don’t leave me in agony for too long,” Ren pleaded.

So Hux obeyed, and offered him a litany of _just relax, just give in to it, tell me to stop if you want me to stop, does it feel good now_ , and Ren was shifting underneath him, and touching him scorched his skin, and it was all he ever wanted to feel.

“Can I —”

“You can,” Ren said, apprehension and impatience and desire all merging in his voice.

And so Hux entered him, and then moved in him, slowly, taking in every sensation and every sound that passed Ren’s lips like invaluable treasures, and he caught Ren’s hand in one of his own as the other held his hip, and he enjoyed every second of his orgasm building up, and as he dived deeper into his sensations it felt like he was inviting a whole universe inside of himself, and he felt like so much more than himself — what he’d called his self was shattered and a new outline was drawn —

“Kylo,” he heard his voice say.

And he couldn’t be slow or gentle or hold back anymore, and Kylo Ren was asking him not to, and he was radiant, he deserved the world, he was shaking, he could have the world, and he had Hux forever, he had his everything, gladly he offered his life — it came in waves, each one hitting him harder than the last — he came — he couldn’t feel his body but he felt all things so acutely — and he collapsed.

He felt joy.

 

“The Resistance have massed all their forces ten miles north of Cinnagar. They want a final confrontation, and we’ll bring that fight to them. We have defeated them before. We will defeat them again, for the very last time. This is their final move, the only one they have left. We will crush them, and then we’ll wipe out the remains of the Republic, and proudly lay the foundations of a new era. The war is coming to an end. Tomorrow, we march towards supreme victory. Tomorrow, we make history.”

 

“Where _is_ Kylo Ren ?” Snoke asked him as soon as the applause and cheering had died down. _He’s gone, he’s deserted, he’s probably with the Resistance already, he’s betrayed us like I always knew he would, and I let him, and I let him go_.

“Have they not found him yet ?”

 

He’d expected to — no, he’d known he would be there, yet his stomach still clenched and still it was agony he felt when he saw Kylo Ren, on the other side of the chaotic battlefield, his moves efficient and impressive as ever, _raw power_ Snoke had said once, and he was. And Ren saw him too, and Hux knew he was dead — he’d known for some time — a battle of this significance had to come, he had to be in the middle of it, he couldn’t just direct it from a remote position, and that was okay, he’d been in the field before, to prepare for this, to prove to himself he could kill, too, and he had, and he could — so he wasn’t afraid.

It took a while, but finally they were face to face, surrounded by life and death and blood and mud and screams, and Hux didn’t stand a chance and they both knew it, but Ren still looked startled when he drove his sword right through his heart, a precise and powerful stroke.

“It’s okay,” Hux said. “I had _foreseen_ this.”

He tried to raise his hand to touch Ren’s face — he thought it would be a nice way to die, a meaningful gesture — but he was too weak already, too numb, too cold, so he just stared into his eyes until everything went dark.


End file.
